Double Cross :original:
by livingondaydreams
Summary: Betrayal is a many-layered thing. You can betray someone to save them, or betray someone to destroy them. The scary part is, Percy isn't sure which one he's doing. :: What if Percy was captured by Gaea? Strong T. Abandoned story.
1. I Percy

**A/N: New story! I know a lot of people have been doing TLH sequels, but this one is **_**very **_**different from the rest, I promise. I won't be updating this story as often as my others because I want to make sure it's still good. Everyone hates seeing a good plot ruined by bad writing, or vice versa.  
>Edit 827/11: Redone and revamped. The earlier version of this chapter was just too short.  
>Now that my little intro is finished, I present to you...<strong>

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>I Percy<strong>

_**December 13**_

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><p>It all started out quite nicely, actually. Of course, being a demigod and all, he should have realized that the peace wouldn't last long.<p>

"All right, everyone, up to bed now. Good night!" Chiron called out, officially ending the campfire. Everyone groaned and started leaving for their cabins in twos and threes. Percy and Annabeth departed slowly, holding hands and laughing. The couple took their time heading back to their cabins. They had both gotten out from school mercifully early, almost two weeks before Christmas (or Solstice, depending on who you asked), and they were to determined to spend as much of their break together as they could.

For the first time in a long, long time, Percy felt _happy._ He'd forgotten how good it felt—no evil stepfather, no daunting quests, no threat of his friends dying, no prophecy hanging over his head (and not to mention no homework). Right now, his life was utterly and completely peaceful.

Well, except for the gods refusing to speak to them. Olympus had been closed off for the last three weeks with no explanation. Zeus had summoned Dionysus back to Olympus. None of the campers were exactly complaining about his absence, but the lack of snarky comments and fumbled names was still unsettling. The gods had even barred Annabeth from coming up to work on rebuilding the eternal city, which meant that they would rather be holed up in a place that was still half rubble than interact with their kids.

Yeah, great parenting skills, guys.

Chiron, in one of their many counselors' meetings about the issue, had suggested that the gods felt resentful of needing half bloods for survival in the war. The theory made sense, but Percy couldn't help but think they could express their embarrassment in a slightly less extreme way.

"Hello? Earth to Seaweed Brain, do you read? Over."

He laughed. "Sorry. You were saying?"

Annabeth gave him one of those breathtaking, _you-silly-idiot-you're-lucky-I-put-up-with-you_ smiles, the kind that made his heart stop for a second, then go _'Oh, Styx!'_ and start beating again in double time.

"I wasn't saying anything, actually. You were just being spacy, as usual."

"Hey! I'm not _always_—okay, well, maybe." In all honesty, he would never win that argument no matter how hard he tried. Best to just surrender early. He sighed. "I was just thinking... about the gods closing Olympus. It doesn't make any sense. I don't get how they could just go, 'Hey, thanks for fighting a war for us! We'll just completely ignore you now. Hope you don't mind.'"

He glanced up at the sky automatically. But there hadn't been an offended rumble of thunder for almost a month, so none came now.

"I know," she sighed. "As far as I can tell, nothing like this has happened before… Not even when people stopped worshiping them. They withdrew a bit then, because they became less powerful, but they've never done anything so… drastic."

"But there's never been a war so drastic," he reminded her.

Annabeth let out a frustrated huff. "This is ridiculous. We just keep talking about the same things again and again and again because we have nothing new to go on. We don't even know if this is a temporary thing, or if they think they're going to keep this up for ages."

"It sucks," he agreed. Something over Annabeth's shoulder caught his eye, and he smiled. "And on that happy note, I'm pretty sure that's Chiron coming to remind us about _the rule_ again. 'Night, Annabeth." He leaned down and kissed her. It amazed him that even after all the times he had kissed Annabeth, each one made him feel on top of the world. Having her so close to him, her lips on his, her breath in his mouth… there was nothing like it.

Percy pulled away, grinning, and started to walk towards his cabin. He was halfway across the pavilion when he heard her call, "Goodnight!"

He looked over his shoulder, smiled even wider at her dazed expression, and kept walking. Honestly, he had never felt so good. The stars were shining, school was out, there was no danger, and he was in love with the most wonderful girl in the world. Yeah, the gods were being moody, but they would figure it out.

And, of course, that's when all the trouble began.

As soon as he closed the door to his cabin, someone tackled him from the side. "Whoa!" he yelled. He fell to the ground, his attacker struggling to hold him down. Percy shoved the person off roughly and staggered to his feet. And then froze when he saw six people dressed in black surrounding him, all carrying some sort of weapon or rope. "What's going on?" he asked flatly.

"Now!" one hissed. They all lunged at once. He punched the first in the face, sending them crashing into the wall, and then kicked another in the gut. One of them smashed something into his head and he stumbled forward. The fourth grabbed his arms and held them behind his back while someone else shoved something into his mouth so that he couldn't yell for help.

He thrashed like a caged animal, throwing them off only to have them come at him again. Suddenly he found himself slammed against his dresser, which tipped over with a crash that _had_ to have woken somebody. He struggled to get up, to free himself, to get away, but there were too many people and they had caught him by surprise. Something slammed into his head, hard, and he faded into the blackness.


	2. II Percy

**A/N: I told you it would be a long wait. I'm expecting to do weekly updates, although it mostly depends on when I have free time and when I have inspiration. Again, bear with me, it'll be worth the wait!**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>II Percy<strong>

_**December 14**_

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><p>As a general rule, Percy preferred not to wake up having no idea where he was.<p>

He opened his eyes, head aching, and tried to remember what had happened. He had said goodnight to Annabeth, and then people attacked him when he came into his cabin. So where was he now? His back cracked as he sat up, hands scraping against the dirt floor.

The room was tiny—smaller than one of those handicap bathroom stalls—and dark, from what he could see. There was a barred door not too far from where he lay, that opened to a hallway lit by torches. No windows—was he underground, then? The floor was hard-packed dirt, and he was on top of a pile of thin blankets. Well, this wasn't cliché at all, now was it? The hero kisses his sweetheart goodnight, gets kidnapped, and wakes up in a mysterious prison cell.

He took a deep breath. _Focus_. Someone was holding him captive in an underground prison. He had no idea where he was, who his captor was, or what his motivations were. He reached into his pocket. Dammit, they had taken Riptide. No way to defend himself, either. This was just getting better and better.

There had to be something he could do. Some loose rock he could use as a weapon, or maybe he could find a drachma to contact camp (because that was _so_ likely, the sarcastic part of his brain sneered). He checked around the cell; it was so minuscule that he could walk across the floor in three steps. The walls were tightly sealed—no chance of help there. As for contacting camp, he couldn't think of any—gods, he was stupid. The empathy link. If he was able to get through to Grover…

_Grover,_ Percy thought. _Enchiladas. Nature. Please, G-Man, you have to hear me. I'm being held prisoner. I need help._

Silence. He couldn't even feel the faint buzzing at the base of his skull that was usually present when he used the link. Weird. A small portion of the fear and panic Percy had struggled to keep in the back of his mind slipped through his mental barrier. He was completely cut off. They probably hadn't realized that he was missing yet. It had only been… how long had he been unconscious? Before he could slip into a full scale panic attack, though, he heard a noise coming from further down the hallway off his cell.

Footsteps. Two people, he guessed, and both of them pretty big. The harsh, rhythmic stomping of their feet echoed off the walls. Percy backed up against the wall (not that it was a very long journey, only a single step) and crouched slightly, automatically preparing himself for a fight. His hand twitched towards his pocket out of habit, and then formed a tight fist. Their shadows appeared on the wall, flickering in the torchlight. His breath sped up; his heart pounded in his chest. It beat frantically, like a trapped bird throwing itself against the bars of its cage, trying to escape the smirking feline predator that was about to end its life. The pair came into view.

The first one was tall and stocky. He wore what looked like fatigues, with classic Greek armor on top and a wicked sword strapped to his side. Close-cropped hair and a multitude of scars completed the look: this guy was not one to mess around with.

Walking—marching, really—behind him was a petite girl, maybe thirteen. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail and her sunken eyes glinted in the light from the dancing flame. She wore the same uniform as the first soldier, but she had a different air—though she seemed the lesser threat, something about her eyes made Percy shiver.

She shoved a thick brass key into the lock, and the door swung open. He glared, daring them to come closer. The first soldier smiled cruelly—a look that reminded Percy of the kids in the Ares cabin back at camp—and his scars rippled. "Don't bother fighting, kid. Trust me, it only makes it worse."

The girl snorted. "You don't always have to be so dramatic, Logan. Why don't you let me do the talking, hm?" Logan took a small step back, grimacing, and the girl turned to Percy. "I'm Katherine. You'll want to be on my good side."

"Why am I here?"

She sighed. "Always the same questions. 'Who are you? What am I doing here?' You'll find out soon enough. _She_ wants to talk to you. You should be honored, actually. She doesn't usually speak to new recruits."

His eyes narrowed. The "recruits" part bothered him—what were they recruiting for? "Who's 'she'?"

The girl—Katherine—grinned, malice lighting up her dark eyes.

"Why, Gaea, of course."


	3. III Grover

**A/N: Phew. What a week (well, two weeks, actually, but who's counting?). My apologies for the delayed update. Homework, as usual. I should actually be doing my homework right now, but I needed to put this up first. See? I **_**do**_** care about you. Chapter three is especially long- almost, if not as long as the first two chapters combined. (Still feels rushed, to me at least.) Mostly fluff, but I wanted to give the story a bit more substance than only Percy's predicament, because eventually you're going to wish for a break from the constant torture (how cheery). And, yes, it's from Grover's POV. Most of the story will be Percy, but other characters will make the occasional appearance. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>III Grover<strong>

_**December 14**_

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><p>Grover hummed to himself as he walked out of the forest, saying a quick hello to some campers as they passed. He wasn't exactly sure what their names were. Lately, he hadn't been spending enough time at camp to get to know the new demigods. He was here for the next two weeks, though, taking a bit of a break from being the Lord of the Wild. Most of the wild places were frozen with winter now, and he could take the time to talk to the satyrs at camp, see what they were finding.<p>

He wandered towards the arena, hoping to find Percy. For one thing, he had asked the son of Poseidon to keep an eye on the parks in the city, but he also just wanted to talk. It had been so long since the two of them had hung out—especially since Percy had finally gotten the guts to kiss Annabeth. If those two had been inseparable before, they were practically one person now.

Just as he was about to enter, Grover heard someone call his name. He turned to see Annabeth jogging toward him, and he started clopping over to the cabins to meet her. Speak of the devil, and (s)he shall appear, he thought wryly.

"What's up, Annabeth?" She looked anxious, he noticed. And puzzled. Now, Annabeth was usually anxious or thoughtful about one thing or another, but _confused_ was a rare state of mind for any child of Athena.

"Nothing. I was just wondering… have you seen Percy anywhere? I've been—"

"Blah-ha-ha. I was afraid this would happen," he smirked.

She paused, looking taken aback and even more confused. "What?"

"We were taking bets on how long it would take before you two couldn't spend a few hours without seeing each other," he explained, grinning sheepishly. "And, well…"

"Shut up, goat boy. I'm serious. He didn't come to breakfast or lunch, he's not in his cabin, and no one else has seen him all day. He's not _anywhere,_" she finished with a moan. Annabeth looked like she was really worried now. Her eyes were wide and slightly panicked-looking, as if by making themselves bigger they would be able to see more. She seemed to be on the brink of a nervous breakdown. But it wasn't like Percy was missing or anything...

"Calm down, I'm sure he's not in any kind of danger. And even if he is, he's Percy. Did you check the beach?"

"Grover, I've looked everywhere. The beach, the forest, the arena… I even called his mom. He isn't in any of those places. And…" she trailed off.

"And what?" he asked, suddenly seized by a foreign sense of urgency. His heart was starting to pound anxiously, and there was a strange buzzing noise at the base of his skull. He was just beginning to realize that his friend could be in some serious trouble. It wasn't like Percy to simply disappear like this.

Annabeth's voice was trembling now. "When I looked in his cabin… it was a disaster. The dresser was knocked over, and things were broken, and there were ropes, and oh, _gods_, Grover, I think someone took him!" Her knees buckled, and she stayed sitting on the grass. He kneeled next to her.

Grover patted her back while she struggled to pull herself together. She didn't cry, though, thank the gods; she was too proud to allow herself to fall apart after only a few hours of frantic searching. "It's okay, Annabeth, we'll find him," he mumbled, over and over. His mind seemed stuck; he had no idea what to do about comforting Annabeth or finding Percy or his dawning realization that something bad was probably going to happen, soon, _again_.

Percy wouldn't leave on his own. Why would he? He had never been one to desert his friends, and it wasn't like him to simply wander around, going from place to place at will. He liked having a home, he'd told Grover once.

Only something really powerful or really evil (or both) could kidnap the invincible Hero of Olympus. _If_, Grover reminded himself, he had indeed been taken by force. There was still the possibility that Percy was down in Atlantis, maybe, or had run off to fight some monster, and that he had randomly felt like tearing apart his own cabin before he left, and that he'd just not bothered to tell anyone where he'd gone. Yes, definitely still a possibility.

"Have you told Chiron?" he asked Annabeth. "Maybe he knows something. Percy could have been… sent on an emergency quest, or something."

Annabeth looked up at him dubiously, the expression ruined a bit by her splotchy face and her panicked eyes. He could feel that she was scared and helpless and frantic. They needed to find Percy _quickly_, or Annabeth would snap.

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><p>"And you're <em>positive<em> that you've checked everywhere at camp? The lake, the beach? The forest?" Chiron asked for the umpteenth time, pacing the floor of the living room. His tail swished back and forth anxiously, hypnotizing Grover momentarily. Annabeth, sitting beside him, was clutching an untouched mug of hot chocolate in her hands as she stared at the floor.

She nodded. "I got Juniper to ask the naiads if they'd seen him, too. He wasn't in the lake, or near the beach, they said. I just… he wouldn't've left on his own—don't look at me like that, Chiron, you know it's true—so someone must have taken him by force. But… who?" She looked up, her gaze switching between Grover and Chiron like they knew the answer.

The centaur sighed. Clearly, he'd seen too many heroes disappear. Percy's seemed to affect him a bit more, though, Grover thought. They'd probably both come to the same conclusion: something big was going to happen. Again.

"Percy has made many enemies, Annabeth. While I don't think most monsters could have kidnapped him, there could be some older, more powerful ones that might have been able to overtake him. Or a minor god, maybe, who is still loyal to Kronos? There are so many possibilities…"

"This is ridiculous," Grover said. "We'll never be able to track down every monster, god, and/or demigod that Percy's ever offended. That would take centuries. Annabeth, couldn't you get your cabin to do some kind of CSI thing?"

Annabeth gave a weak laugh. "Taylor's pretty good with forensics, if that's what you mean. I could ask him, although I doubt that we'll come away with any conclusions, even if we do find traces of evidence. Gods don't have DNA, or even distinct fingerprints, that I know of, and we wouldn't have records of any demigods' information- we should start doing that, Chiron, by the way. It's still something, though… I'll ask as soon as I can."

"Chiron, do you think…" Grover started, but then stopped. There _couldn't_ be something similar to Kronos's uprising. Not again, only a few months after the last war. But he continued anyway. "Do you think that whatever's behind this… well, what if it's similar to what happened with Kronos? It couldn't be, right?"

"My dear satyr, let us hope not. Frankly, we wouldn't survive another war. We've gathered more demigods, but they are young and inexperienced. We must pray that whatever took Percy remains… dormant."

"You know what's happening, don't you?" Annabeth asked shrewdly. "Or, at least, you've got some ideas?"

"A few vague ideas, yes. However, I think it best that we not jump to any conclusions at this point." He glanced at the clock and raised his eyebrows. "_Di immortales_, is that the time already? Annabeth, child, and Grover, I must go to dinner. If you two want to remain in here, I can have one of the nymphs send some food in for you."

Grover and Annabeth both nodded and said thanks, and Chiron clip-clopped out of the Big House.

Annabeth was quiet for the rest of the night, although she seemed to be a little bit back to her usual self, which Grover was happy about. They talked about where Percy could possibly be—mostly just random suggestions: somewhere on Long Island or in New York, Canada, California, Maine (Annabeth shot that one down pretty quickly), even Greece… But it was nearly impossible to narrow down any options without knowing who had taken him.

_Please_, Grover thought as he fell asleep later, _anyone who's listening, help us find him. Please._


	4. IV Percy

**A/N: Super long chapter! I won't be able to write for a few days (going camping in the great outdoors... yay?), so hopefully this will tide you all over until I get back.**

**Warning: This is where the going gets tough. Last chance to turn back before... well, you'll see. Lots of action/drama/intensity in this chapter. **

**Enjoy, and don't forget to review!**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>IV Percy<strong>

_**December 14**_

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><p>The prison reminded him of the Labyrinth. Underground, twisting, inescapable, and just as terrifying. Katherine and Logan, the two soldiers, led him down the winding passageways. They'd neglected to blindfold him, thankfully, and he tried to remember which way they were taking him, just in case. <em>Right, second left, right, past those giant doors, left…<em>

A horrible, strangled noise broke his concentration. Percy jumped. His wardens didn't.

"What was _that_?" he asked. He knew, of course. It was a human scream, coming from someone who was obviously in excruciating agony.

"That's what happens to people who resist the Mother," Katherine said. That malicious glint lit her eyes again, and Percy had to repress a shudder. She _enjoyed_ witnessing people's pain.

More prisoners screamed and pleaded and sobbed as their small group passed, but neither Logan nor Katherine ever seemed disturbed in the slightest. They had grown used to it, apparently. He wondered who else had been captured by this army—Gaea's army.

Gaea. The first goddess, he remembered. Mother Earth, the bearer of the Titans, grandmother of the gods. But she was evil, right? She resented Zeus for locking up the Titans in the first war. And that's when realization struck him—history was repeating itself. Zeus had defeated Kronos again, and Gaea was going to try to destroy the gods in retaliation. Oh, Hades, this was not good.

The long, twisting passageways continued for what seemed like miles. Their footsteps echoed off the smooth stone floor. The walls were made of the same material, with torches held to the wall every few feet by iron brackets. The entire place felt dark and forbidding—like a haunted tomb in an old scary movie. There were no alcoves or sections that jutted out—nothing that he could use for cover if he tried to escape, in other words.

They stopped at an enormous pair of wooden doors. Black metal ran across its expanse, making intricate patterns that reminded Percy of flowers. Logan stepped forward and knocked once purposefully. The door swung open slowly, without a single creak or moan. There was no one behind it.

Katherine pushed him past the doors. "We'll be back to collect you," she told him with a smirk, "after your audience is over."

She and Logan turned and left without another word. Percy would have called after them indignantly, but it wasn't like that would have done any good. They'd most likely laugh and keep walking. He took a deep breath and turned to face the room.

It was some kind of hall, he guessed, majestic and imposing. Intimidating. Every inch was covered with rough black marble streaked with warm brown and gold. In the center of the room was a throne that seemed to be made out of the earth itself—it blended seamlessly with the stone, but roots and tendrils of rock curled around it. There was a small inlet behind the throne, where an iron brazier was pressed against the wall. A small golden statue rested atop the glowing metal.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind him. He spun around quickly, and found that he was in the center of the room, having been drawn in almost unconsciously. The throne was now only a few feet in front of him.

Before he could do anything more than take in his surroundings, a dry, hot wind began to swirl around the throne. He backpedaled hastily, instinctively reaching for Riptide and cursing himself when he remembered that his blade wasn't there. The wind gathered specks of dirt from every surface, including his own body, until they formed a woman's body sitting on the throne.

Her eyes were closed, but she seemed aware. A small smile graced her face, and her arms rested calmly on the arms of her stone seat. Her skin was a soft, warm, brown. He couldn't tell exactly what she was wearing—her clothes constantly shifted, although they were always made from earth.

"Welcome, Perseus," Gaea murmured. Her voice was calm and kind, but he detected an undercurrent of something he couldn't quite identify—cunning, sneakiness.

"Why am I here?" he asked bluntly. The goddess sighed.

"I should have known you would be so direct. Come, sit, have something to eat. You must be starved, dear." She waved her hand, and a stone chair appeared in front of the throne, along with a small table piled with food. He was about to dig in, but some instinct told him not to. The food could be poisoned, or drugged.

He shook his head. "Why am I here?"

"I see you will not be dissuaded. Very well—that's the kind of determination I'm looking for. Self-preservation. Chutzpah, if you will. Few demigods would dare to defy a goddess—the first goddess, at that. But, then," she paused, seeming to look at him contemplatively. Which was strange, he thought, because her eyes were still closed—asleep. A small smile lit her face, and she continued, "you're not like other demigods, are you, Percy?"

So it would be flattery, then. Two could play at that game, when the time was right. For now, though, he remained silent. Let her do the talking—it would give him more information.

"No," she murmured, seeing that he wasn't going to answer. "No, you're not. And that's why, Percy, I have a proposal for you. Now, before you have any scruples, I ask that you consider this with an open mind."

Because asking him to keep an open mind really convinced him that he should accept whatever offer she made.

"Our intentions aren't so different, you know. I've heard of the noble decision you made last summer—you turned down immortality, that most prized of gifts, for the equality and just treatment of those who have been oppressed by the gods for so long. Wait just a moment—let me finish before you respond, please. You asked for the minor gods and their children to be treated with respect—and the Olympians have done so, for the most part. But what of the 'peaceful Titan-kind,' as you so rightfully called them? What of those who are punished for what their relatives have done?

"They remain maltreated, Percy. I have seen with my own eyes—or, rather, my own heart and mind—the abuses that they face. Calypso—has she been freed? And the half-blood children of Titans—I see you did not know of their existence. They fight for survival, unable to find solace and safety at your Camp Half-Blood. Several, in fact, have sought and found protection with me. I would correct the wrongs done to my family—yours, too, remember. Which is why, Percy, I ask you to become commander of my forces."

"_What_? You really expect _me_ to join _you_?" He started pacing agitatedly. Un. Freaking. Believable. Gaea wanted him to lead the destruction of Western civilization. What was _with_ these ancient gods? Couldn't they just accept their fate and chill in Tartarus?

"Right," he muttered. "After going through all that trouble to _save_ Olympus, I'm going to turn around, betray my friends, and bring about the destruction of everything I know and love. Well, that sounds reasonable, now doesn't it?"

"You misunderstand me," Gaea said calmly. "I only mean to restore justice where it is owed—my ultimate goal is not, as you believe, to uproot the Olympians. I am not my son. But the gods _should_ respect their family—and if force is required to show them, so be it."

"But wasn't that the whole point of the last war?" he countered. "The gods have learned their lesson. They claim their kids, and they've started to treat the Titan-kind with more compassion. Why is _another_ war needed to convince them?"

"Think about my offer, Percy. You would be at the head of a great revolution—no? That's not what you want? I see; you are not one to be tempted by power. What if, though, you had the power to save the ones you love? If you command my armies, you can spare your friends. Only those who continue to resist justice will suffer, Percy. Surely you see that this is the better option?"

His entire body felt cold. Of course his fatal flaw would come back to bite him. _You would destroy the world to save a friend_, Athena told him once.

He could save them, he thought. Annabeth, Grover, Tyson… _No._ She was trying to manipulate him. With some effort, he shook his head.

"I'm not going to join you."

Gaea's eyes narrowed. "In time, hero, you will be persuaded. I will give you one last chance today: Pledge allegiance to me, restore justice… or be tortured until you see the better path. I win both ways; you, only in joining me."

Torture. That was what it was going to come down to. How did you torture someone who's invulnerable? He didn't want to find out.

But he wouldn't sacrifice the world for his own pain. _Not yet, at least_, a poisonous voice whispered in the back of his mind.

Again, he shook his head. Gaea sighed.

"Very well. I will speak to you again tomorrow."

And with that, she crumbled into dust on the blistering wind.

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><p>The pain was unbearable. His mind could not—would not—comprehend it. Percy barely heard his own agonized yells over the sound of the machine—the stretching machine. Simple, primitive, yet effective.<p>

Every nerve in his body screamed at him to end the torture, to just accept the damn offer, anything to end this horrible suffering. But no, no, no, he wouldn't—couldn't—give in. He wasn't that weak.

Three months of no physical injury did make that first dive back in worse than it should have been, after all. What little part of him wasn't thinking about the torture was desperately hoping that it would become more bearable, once he got used to it. It had to, right? There weren't _that_ many ways to inflict pain upon someone with invulnerable skin.

It wasn't injuring him - his invulnerability extended to every part of his body except for that one mortal point - but that didn't mean it couldn't hurt like Hades. With every clanking rotation of that savage crank, his spine strained just a little bit more painfully, his breath turned just a little bit more ragged, his vision became just a little bit more blurred. Dying by degrees, the agony increasing with each mechanical _clunk, clunk, clunk_.

"Still feel like resisting? Gaea is merciful; she will forgive your insolence," Katherine's voice said from somewhere above him. She, _of course_, was in charge of punishing prisoners. The young daughter of Hecate (she had bragged about her magical abilities the entire journey over to this chamber) was skilled in pain-inflicting spells in particular, "which you," she had said with a smirk, "will have the pleasure of experiencing if you keep fighting." It was part of the reason she had risen so quickly through the small, yet growing, ranks of Gaea's army.

He groaned out a reply, something along the lines of "Go to Tartarus." By this point, he wasn't sure exactly what came out of his mouth.

His diminutive torturer chuckled. "Well, your time's up, anyway. I gotta say, you're not as fun to punish as the others. You don't scream as much." Her pale face formed a pouty, disappointed expression, but her eyes seemed to glow with determination. She _would_ get him to plead for mercy.

Everything was slightly blurred as Logan, who seemed to be his personal warden, half-dragged him back to his cell. Tiny spots of white light danced in front of his eyes as the hefty soldier tossed him headfirst into the back wall. Percy let out a colorful curse or two and staggered upright to face the door.

The guard was already gone. In his place lay a small tin plate of bread and a cup of water. Too much in shock and exhausted to eat, he simply pulled the meager meal into his cell and collapsed onto his "bed."

The first day in a succession of truly nightmarish days.


	5. V Percy

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! I should be able to start updating more frequently soon. This one is pretty long as your reward for being patient. **

**Also, I've added dates at the beginning of each chapter, and I'll continue doing that for the remainder of the story. It'll help you keep things straight later on. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>V Percy<strong>

_**December 15**_

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><p>His eyes refused to open. They were crazy-glued together, squeezed as tight as possible. Maybe, Percy thought, this wasn't real. Maybe he'd just had a very vivid, very painful nightmare. He would open his eyes and see his cabin, not the cramped stone cell.<p>

He almost believed his fantasy, except for the aching soreness throughout his entire body. Every tiny movement set off a dull burn that never quite faded.

Slowly, he cracked his eyes open and felt a sharp stab of despair when he saw the dirty walls of his prison cell. He groaned quietly and sat up, his spine cracking painfully with every inch. His head fell back against the wall and he sighed. This was definitely not how he'd wanted to spend his Christmas break. Right now (when _was_ right now, anyway?) he could have been waking up in his own bed. Or maybe walking to breakfast late, as always. Smiling at Annabeth across the tables…

His grumbling stomach brought him back to his current situation, and he realized that he hadn't eaten since… since dinner the night he was kidnapped. How many days was that—two? He reached over for the tin plate the guard left last night. The bread was stale and tasted like sand, but it quelled his hunger, at least for a little bit.

He eyed the tin mug of water. He could drink it… or save it to use as a weapon. He smiled slightly, but it didn't touch his eyes. Whoever had thought to give an imprisoned son of Poseidon water was going to seriously regret that lack in judgment soon. He took a small gulp, hoping to strengthen himself for today, at least, and then hid the cup under one of the filthy blankets.

Not knowing what else to do, he rose to his feet somewhat shakily. His vision blurred for a second or two, and he had to use the stone wall as support. The rough texture of the rock was almost soothing, in a strange way; it reassured him that something stood solid and firm in this hellhole. Other than that tiny, peculiar reassurance, though, the cell embodied everything he despised about his predicament. He was held against his will, starved, trapped in a small space, tortured, separated from his loved ones by gods-knew how many miles of dirt and rock.

He slid down the coarse stone until he was sitting on the ground, head thrown back dejectedly as he glared at the ceiling.

Why was it always _him_? Why _now_? Could he never get a break? For years, he'd dedicated his life to the war, lost countless friends and a good portion of his innocence. The majority of sixteen year olds hadn't killed people, after all. They probably hadn't fought thousands of monsters, either. And, oh, right, they most likely hadn't had giant end-of-the-world prophecies made about them or been through a war.

And now, here he was, trapped in a prison cell miles beneath the earth's surface, while Gaea was plotting to destroy the gods. Shouldn't there be some kind of recovery time allowed?

Someone rattled his cell door roughly.

"Get up, prisoner," Logan grunted through the bars. "Gaea wants to see you."

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><p>The goddess swirled the nectar around in her goblet lazily as she lounged on her simple throne. She glanced up at him, dull disappointment and fake sadness cooling her gaze.<p>

"So," she drawled. "You refuse my generous offer again?"

Percy glared at her and nodded for the millionth time that morning. He must have been here half an hour already. She had started out with some counterfeit drivel about not wanting to see him hurt, and her _sincere_ wish that he had reconsidered and chosen to join her. For some reason, she was utterly shocked that he hadn't. Chosen to join her, that is.

The ancient goddess sighed and looked him full in the face with an expert imitation of regret painted on her earthen face. "Well, Percy, it seems that you must face the consequences again."

He grimaced. He'd known this was coming, of course, but it was never pleasant to hear that he was going to be tortured.

"Darius," she called. A kid opened the door and bowed. Most of his body was covered with armor, but Percy could tell that he had pale skin and dark eyes. He was probably around fifteen years old, stocky and short. Percy could have easily taken him, even without a weapon.

"Yes, milady?" the boy—Darius—asked. Gaea smiled sleepily.

"Fetch the Guard, and then escort our, ah, guest to the tank." Darius nodded curtly, bowed again, and hastened out of the throne room. Percy scowled. One kid was easy to beat unarmed. But he couldn't take out an entire group of them without making a commotion.

Gaea chuckled, and the sound was like feet dragging on a dirt road. "Did you really think I would leave you alone with that bumbling idiot? You underestimate me, Percy. It wouldn't do to have you escape, now, would it?"

His temper flared. He couldn't help it. "They'll find me, you know. They're looking for me even as we speak."

He wasn't lying—he'd had a dream just last night. It had been blurry, like looking through someone else's thick glasses, but he had been able to see what was happening in his absence.

Gaea scrutinized him. "I see you have overpowered my enchantment. Interesting. Your father's nature makes you too changeable. You're not supposed to be able to have any contact with the outside world. I'm the one who blocked your empathy link with that satyr, you know. Couldn't have you trying to tell your friends where you are. They might try to find you, and that would be _very_ bad for them, Percy."

Her face contorted into a sickening simper.

Percy was in shock. She'd cut him off completely. "You…"

She laughed airily. "I'm more powerful when I'm in my element. I can remain awake for periods of time. On the surface, I'm forced to stay in a state of half-sleep. But even then, you'll find, Percy, that I am not to be underestimated.

"Already, I am improving the world above. You've never been a fan of my granddaughter Hera, have, you? She's so strict, so prideful… Did you know that she planned to rob you of your memories, Percy?"

His gaze tore away from the floor so quickly that his neck cracked. He studied her face carefully. She had to be lying. Even Hera wasn't that bad. Right?

"I see that you didn't know. In fact, she planned to do the deed the very night my forces retrieved you. Had they not, you would have been utterly lost, without any recollection of your entire life. All because of the whim of a temperamental goddess, Percy. She wanted to punish your Annabeth. Ah, that touched a nerve, didn't it? Well, I couldn't let you suffer that. So I've had a nice talk with my granddaughter, and she's now helping me.

"You see, Percy? Even the Queen of the gods is assisting me in correcting the ways of the gods. She has been humbled, naturally…"

A firm knock sounded from the doorway, and Percy jumped. He'd almost forgotten about his coming torture, he was so absorbed in what Gaea was telling him. He didn't believe most of it—Hera would never betray the gods—but some parts were not too far-fetched.

"Time flies when you're having fun, hm? I will see you again, Percy. Consider my offer, in light of what you have learned." She crumbled into dust and blew away, just as she always entered and exited.

* * *

><p>"Dude," Darius said to one of the guards. "When's the next time she's gonna let us up to the surface? I haven't seen sun in like, a week."<p>

The other rolled his eyes. "The chutes are broken, noob. Remember? Alex fused the doors shut a few days ago."

Another guard, who looked like she was only thirteen, groaned. "That'll take _ages_ to fix, unless we can find a Cyclops."

Percy listened to their conversation closely as they walked him to the torture chamber. The ten guards seemed to have forgotten about him.

"So, we can't go up at all? There another chute right over there," Darius pointed down a hallway not far from Gaea's throne room. "Why can't we just use that one?"

"Shut _up_, you idiot. The prisoner will hear you," barked an older guy, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He shot Percy a look that told the son of Poseidon that this kid clearly thought himself superior to everyone. Percy rolled his eyes. Like he hadn't been listening to their entire conversation.

"Just because you're ranked higher, doesn't mean you're perfect, Don," a girl muttered irritably.

Don glared at her. "I may not be perfect, but I'm a hell of a lot closer than you, Nicole."

The other guards were so absorbed by the beginnings of the fight that one of them walked into the door of the torture chamber. He cursed, holding his bleeding nose, and scrambled in his pockets. The girl who had been arguing before, Nicole, tapped him on the shoulder and stiffly dropped a key into his hand.

"You dropped it, Alex. Better be more careful next time, hm?"

Alex blushed and shoved the key into the lock with a lot more force than necessary. Once he got the door open, Don grabbed Percy's shoulder and threw him into the room, slamming the door loudly.

Percy sighed, steeling himself for what was coming next, and turned to see a grinning Katherine with an aquarium-sized tank full of blood.


	6. VI Percy

**A/N: Did you like that cliffie? You guys must've hated me for keeping you waiting so long, especially with such a disturbing image. This one will definitely live up to your speculations, I think. Is it bad that I'm feeling extremely creeped out, and I'm the one writing it? As always, reviews are greatly appreciated, even if you call me the most messed up psycho ever. Seriously.**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>VI Percy<strong>

_**December 15**_

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><p>"We're going to start off slow, okay?" Katherine said with a sneer on her face, her voice sickeningly sweet.<p>

Percy glared. Why was he putting up with this? He could easily escape her, he thought. They were alone, and she was tiny.

"That's disgusting, you know." His voice was nonchalant as he nodded his head towards the blood tank. While it wasn't as big as he had originally thought, it was still repulsively large—at least the size of a Smart Car.

She turned to look up at the tank, her smile growing even wider. _Good_, he thought, _she's distracted_. He took a quiet step or two in her direction.

"It's only partially human blood. We had to supplement it with animals. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to collect blood from someone who's dying?" He kept inching closer. Only two feet separated them.

"Hard, I bet. How many people did it take?" He was revolted by his own words, but it was essential that they remain on a topic she would find interesting.

"Oh, around—"

Her words cut off sharply as Percy grabbed her wrists and clenched his other arm around her throat, making breathing impossible for her.

He didn't waste time bragging. "Where's the closest exit?"

Katherine stayed silent, trying and failing to break free. He twisted her wrists painfully and pushed his arm harder across her airway.

She let out a strangled gasp. "Two rights, then straight."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Don't—telling truth—" she choked.

"You better be," he growled, and slammed her head against the nearest hard object he could find. She shrieked, and he released her, sprinting for the door—

"_Katadesmos_!"

A blinding pain hit Percy and he crumpled to the floor convulsing. He wasn't sure if he screamed or not; he was too much in shock to register anything.

Katherine muttered something, and the burning stopped. He lay on the ground, gasping for breath as he recovered. She slowly walked over to him with an ugly grimace on her face and an equally nasty bruise forming on her pale forehead. He held his breath and concentrated on the sound of her combat boots on the dirt floor.

"You _idiot_," she snarled, landing a kick in his ribcage. It didn't hurt him, but it was still degrading. She leaned down to whisper in his ear. "You've only made it worse for yourself."

He tried to kick her legs out from under her, but his limbs felt like they were encased in wet cement. Whatever magic she was using made any movement impossible. So much for his brilliant plan. Annabeth would be _so_—oh, gods. Annabeth. She'd be freaking out. How many days had he been down here? Two, he thought. It felt like so much longer…

His thoughts were abruptly cut off when Katherine dragged him over to the blood tank—he tried to make it as difficult for her as possible, but he couldn't do much without moving—and forced him to kneel with his head right over the blood. The stench hit him strongly, and it might have been one of the most disgusting things he'd ever smelled in his life. He gagged at the thought of how many people must have died to produce this much gore.

Without warning, Katherine shoved his head down into the crimson liquid, breaking the sticky film on the surface. He couldn't help it; he gasped and the blood gushed into his mouth and up his nose. It was like the Styx all over again, because he couldn't breathe, except that this was a lot more repulsive. He choked and tried to forget the horrible fact that he was _submerged_ in _blood_. He tried to struggle, but found that he still couldn't move. His mouth opened in a silent, horrified scream, and he barely noticed that even more blood entered his mouth.

Finally, _finally_, Katherine pulled him out by his hair and held him so that his head was arched back to look at her. He gasped and shuddered as blood ran down his throat, making him want to gag again, and poured down his chest and back in little streams.

"Did you like that?" she asked with that horribly familiar grin on her face.

"Has anyone ever told you," he panted, his voice coming out thick and croaky, "that you're psychotic?"

His head splashed back down into the tank, spraying Katherine with tiny droplets of gore. Not that she would care, anyway. She probably had blood with her cereal instead of milk.

He tried to focus on anything other than what was happening. If he closed his mouth and held his breath, he could almost pretend that this was red Kool-aid. He thought about his mom's blue cookies, the last basketball game he saw, even the burning of his lungs as they screamed for oxygen. His dream from last night kept running through his head, and he latched onto it desperately.

_Annabeth was standing at the head of the rec room's ping pong table, some kind of enormous map spread out in front of her. Looking over her shoulder, he saw hundreds of tiny stars and X's scattered over North America. Most of the X's were in the Northeast, he noticed. _

"_Grover, you said you had some satyrs looking in Quebec, the Midwest, and… sorry, where else?"_

_Percy looked up from the map and realized for the first time that all the cabin leaders, minus himself, were also gathered around the table. Katie Gardner and Clarisse looked like they were arguing about something, but he couldn't hear—_

He felt stale air blow across the wet, sticky liquid covering him and gasped wildly, drawing in an enormous breath while he could. Everything seemed a little blurred, or maybe it was because of the blood dripping in his eyes. His head pounded, and he couldn't hear what Katherine said. All he knew was that suddenly he was moving, and his head, neck and shoulders were once again submerged in gore.

"_Most of the East coast cities. If they don't find him there, though, I told them to start looking in more remote areas," Grover said, pointing out different places on the map._

_Annabeth nodded. "Has anyone heard anything yet? Any clues?"_

"_Nothing," Connor Stoll sighed. "Besides, if he's gonna contact anyone, it'll be you."_

_She rested her elbows on the table, massaging her temples with her eyes squeezed shut. "I know. And the Hunters haven't found anything either. I talked to Thalia this morning."_

Katherine yanked his head out of the tank again. He choked and spluttered as blood trickled down into his mouth. His head was spinning. He didn't bother to open his eyes this time.

"Nothing to say, Percy?" She cackled when a groan slipped from his blood-coated lips. "Back in we go, then."

_He saw Drew, the new Aphrodite counselor, nudge Katie and whisper, "This is _so_ tragic. It's adorable."_

_Katie fixed her with a glare and turned back to consider the map._

"_What about Triton, Poseidon's heir? Have they met?" Pollux suggested. Annabeth looked at him with a thoughtful expression._

"_It's definitely a possibility. Percy"—she said his name with effort and moved on hastily—"said something about it the week before the last battle, I think. Although I don't think Poseidon would like it very much if his sons started kidnapping each other."_

_He wanted to scream at them all. _No!_ he thought, _I'm right here. It's Gaea!_ But they wouldn't hear him, of course. He wasn't there, physically anyway._

His head broke the surface again, and he gasped and shuddered. He may have gagged, or even choked up some blood. He was barely conscious anymore. As soon as he plunged back into the tank, he plunged back into last night's dream, where he could pretend that he was with everyone back at camp. Except for the fact that they were searching for _him_.

"_Oceanus, maybe?" said Clarisse. "He could want revenge for losing the war against Poseidon."_

_Grover nodded. "Those are both good suggestions… except that we have no way of acting on them. Percy's the only one who could ever survive those kinds of conditions to rescue someone. And since he's the one missing…"_

_Will Solace sighed and tilted back in his chair. "Percy has way too many enemies to even consider all of them. Hades, he's probably ticked off every single immortal that's ever existed."_

_Annabeth tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "I know, and that's half the problem." She sighed and glanced up at the clock. "You guys should get some sleep. We'll continue this in the morning. Same time as today."_

It took him a while to realize that he wasn't in the tank anymore. He coughed some of the blood out of his lungs, but they still burned. His eyes slowly opened, and everything was blurry and tinged with red.

"I wish I could keep going." Katherine's voice was nonchalant, like she hadn't just been dunking someone in a giant vat of human blood. The sound echoed in his ears dizzily. "But Gaea wouldn't be happy if you died. At least I get you tomorrow, though. I've got something special planned…"

He lay on the floor, relishing the feeling of oxygen moving in and out of his airways again. The door of the torture chamber opened with a grinding noise, and someone—no, two people picked him up by the arms. He vaguely noticed them half-dragging him back to his cell, which meant safety, ironically. He tried to move his feet a little, but ended up just stumbling.

It was almost a relief to collapse on the thin blankets on the floor of the tiny prison cell. Violent shudders rocked through his body. He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, and he welcomed it. As everything faded to black, the last part of his dream ran through his head.

_Grover sat down next to Annabeth, who was hunched over on the front steps of the Big House. The night was dark and still; only the two of them were awake. _

"_You okay?" Grover asked quietly, resting a hand lightly on Annabeth's shoulder. She jumped a little and quickly wiped at her eyes._

"_Yeah. I just— I'm— I don't know—"_

"_It's okay. I'm scared, too. We're going to find him, though. I promise. We'll be able to tell if something… serious happens, thanks to my empathy link, and everyone is searching for him, thanks to your brilliant planning."_

_She gave him a shaky smile. Percy noticed how worn down she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders were slumped. _

"_I know we'll find him," she murmured. "We have to."_


	7. VII Annabeth

**A/N: How is it possible to have writer's block for a filler chapter? Sorry to those of you who've been anxiously awaiting news of poor Percy's fate. You're going to have to wait a little bit longer, because I didn't have the heart to torture our hero for four straight chapters. I really just want to get to the good part of this story, but unfortunately I have to build up to it so that the events make sense. Sigh. Enough of this rambling, though. Please enjoy this break from sadism, and don't forget to leave a review!**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>VII Annabeth<strong>

_**December 16**_

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><p>"Chiron," she called, walking impatiently through the Big House. Her hands were trembling with excitement. She might have a lead. She might be able to find Percy, after all this searching. Her brisk footsteps were the loudest sounds in the house, but not the only ones.<p>

"—clouded even from me. You need to send more people out to look."

Annabeth paused, glancing at the closed door cautiously. They were talking about Percy; she was sure of it. And that voice sounded familiar, though she couldn't quite place who it was. She inched closer silently, her curiosity momentarily getting the best of her.

"I know, my lord," came Chiron's weary voice. "We have all the satyrs searching, and if we don't develop any more new leads, I'll send out whatever demigods we can. But there are only so many, after the war…"

"I'm aware of that. But this is of vital importance, Chiron," the first voice said firmly. It was deep and strong, but not unkind. "The disappearances of my sister and my son are not unrelated. If there is something powerful enough to overcome both of them, we need to know."

_My son_.

Annabeth caught her breath. Poseidon was in the other room. This was the first contact with any god since a month ago, when Olympus had closed. If the situation was serious enough that one of them had come down…

"Lord Poseidon, as much faith as I have in my pupils, I fear that they will not be able to unearth, much less defeat something capable of kidnapping Percy, who is invincible in combat, as well as keeping a _goddess _captive for nearly a month. If—"

"There will be no more discussion of this topic. And I believe you have a visitor with something very important to tell you." Before Annabeth could take more than a step or two away, the door swung open to reveal a tense Chiron standing next to a man in Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt who looked so much like Percy that it hurt.

Annabeth was pretty sure that her face was the color of a tomato, but she tried to maintain some of her dignity. She bowed and said, "Lord Poseidon. It's an honor to have you here."

The sea god just winked. "Ah, but I was never here. Because that would make my brother very angry, now wouldn't it?" He turned into mist, leaving behind only the scent of the ocean.

"He was here against Zeus's orders, wasn't he?" Annabeth asked, turning to Chiron. He sighed and nodded, his face wearier than ever.

"Yes. Things are… not good on Olympus at the moment. Many of the gods are unhappy with Zeus's decision, but he refuses to change his mind."

"And what did he say about a goddess being kidnapped?"

Another sigh. "Unfortunately, I am forbidden to speak about it. It seems that secrecy reigns on Olympus nowadays." He shook his head. "But what did you have to tell me, my dear?"

Had it been anything less important, Annabeth probably would have forgotten what she had wanted to say.

"I had a dream last night," she began, her voice shaking a little with excitement and nerves. "From Hera. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't trust her or even listen to what she had to say, but she told me how to find Percy."

Chiron's jaw actually dropped. "The Lady Hera? She told you how to…" He blinked suddenly and cleared his throat. "It's just unexpected, I mean. Olympus is closed, and the fact that she chose you of all people to communicate with… But what did she say?"

She raised an eyebrow at his unusual behavior, but let it slide. "I'll find the answer to my problem at the Grand Canyon, where there'll be a person with one shoe. That has to be Percy. I need to go, Chiron."

"Yes," he sighed. "You do. You can't ignore this kind of lead. But do be careful, and bring someone with you, okay?"

She grinned, the first real smile since she realized that her boyfriend was _gone_, and nodded.

"Yeah. I'll bring Butch; he's good with the Pegasi, and not a bad fighter either. And I'll go ask Clarisse for the flying chariot, too." She walked briskly out the door, buzzing with excitement. She was going to find Percy, and bring him back to Camp, and then kick his butt for disappearing, and then everything would be fine again. Naturally, the rational side of her muttered that her little fantasy was probably _not_ going to happen, because demigods' lives simply aren't that easy, but she ignored reason for the moment because she simply did not have the emotional energy to consider the more realistic possibility that all her problems would not be solved by one journey to Arizona.

And so, just for a few moments, the daughter of Athena allowed herself to live in her personal, delusional dreamland, because it was better than real life.


	8. VIII Percy

**AN: It's true - I'm back! And it feels sodamngood to be updating this again. Sorry to leave you all hanging, but writer's block is worse than... [insert creative really bad thing here]. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed/favorited/alerted this story and/or encouraged/supported me **in that awkward two and a half month gap**. You guys are the best. Also! I've gone back and redone chapter one. It was kinda atrocious, barely six hundred words. Go back and read it please, I can't stand to leave that kind of impression. And now, since I've kept you waiting long enough:**

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><p><strong>Double Cross<strong>

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><p><strong>VIII Percy<strong>

_**December 19**_

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><p>His stomach growled, and he cursed internally.<p>

"Hungry, are you?" Katherine asked mockingly. Her pale features twisted into a pout that looked sickeningly appropriate on her young face. He could only glare up at her, seeing as he was tied to a chair and gagged. He'd woken up in some pretty bad places, but this ranked in the top ten without a doubt.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. Two days? Three? He knew that he'd been here for six days, though—the wall of his cell now bore six small white lines, scratched in with that tin cup he'd stashed. It was just like those cliché prison movies, except that he wasn't being paid millions, and he wasn't acting.

"Today," she said, "we're going to do something new. I haven't tried it before, so it might not work correctly. Don't worry, though; I'm sure we can fix any brain damage that happens."

Before he could protest, an image was forced roughly into his mind.

_A boy with black hair is crouching against a brick wall, gripping a black sword. Nico. His breath comes in short gasps; there's already a thick gash on his dark eyes dart around the alley. He's looking for something. Or something is looking for him._

_A low growl comes from a spot a few feet from Nico. He turns and starts creeping towards whatever monster is hiding in the shadows. _

Percy wanted to call out a warning or jump in front of his friend or do _something_ because he knew whatever was about to attack Nico was bad, but before he could do anything—

_Nico lunges, sword poised to strike._

_An unearthly shriek fills the cramped alley, and a dark hulking figure rises from behind an abandoned couch. Nico gasps, staring up at the _thing_ in horror; he seems unable to move from shock. The monster swipes at the son of Hades with an enormous scaly limb. Nico falls limp to the ground, and the creature laughs horribly. _

_Nico wakes up in a small dark room. Someone is hurting him, torturing him, and he's screaming "No, no, please! No—!"_

"No!" The vision shut off abruptly, leaving Percy shaking and breathing heavily in the aftermath. The gag had fallen off somewhere in the midst of the vision.

"Huh," said Katherine. She was staring down at him with a surprised expression, her head cocked like a confused dog's. "It actually worked. The last time I tried, the person went insane after about three seconds. Still learning how to use magic." Her mouth twisted into a frown. "Not that I ever had any _help_ with that," she muttered resentfully.

"What—what was that?" he choked out.

She blinked, seeming to come out of a reverie. "I put a false image into your mind," she explained calmly. "It's like forcing you to watch a movie, except you can't close your eyes."

His frantically beating heart had slowed a bit by this point. "What were you saying earlier… about help? With magic."

"No questions," she barked. A fierce scowl distorted her young face, suddenly making Percy quite afraid of the thirteen year old girl in front of him. "Now, on the count of three—"

Another image crashed into him.

_He's twelve, in the back of Smelly Gabe's smelly Camaro. Grover is sitting next to him, his rain-soaked furry legs not helping with the stench, and his mom is hunched tensely over the steering wheel, muttering to herself._

"_Just a few more miles. Please."_

_Grover is explaining something to him, and he tries to push aside the all-consuming panic so that he can try to listen to what this weird half-donkey boy is saying. Only a few words penetrate the thick layer of fear and confusion. The rest sounds like muddled mush._

"_Greek gods… your father… camp… old ladies…"_

Confusion washed through him. That wasn't how it had happened… not exactly, anyway. And how had they gotten into his memories in the first place?

_Then a bright white light is all he can see and the sound of grating, groaning metal and the BOOM of thunder fill the air. _

_He peels his forehead off the seat in front of him._

Percy felt a small wave of relief. And any second his mom would start yelling his name and Grover would moan about food because that was what happened and of course they couldn't change it because it had _happened_.

Except in the vision it didn't play out that way.

_He looks over at Grover, worried for his best friend's safety, even if he's a barnyard animal. But Grover is slumped against the car door, blood trickling out of his mouth. Percy shakes him, because he's got to wake up so they can get shelter. But the goatboy is still, and…_

_Ice cold._

_Percy's breath catches in his throat and heat pricks his eyes. Grover can't be dead. No, he's sleeping._

_He turns to his mother. She is still hunched over the steering wheel, but now she is completely limp. Her face is bloody. _

_Her eyes are wide open. Staring. Unmoving. Lifeless._

He shuddered as he surfaced from the vision. It wasn't real. It couldn't have been real, because that would have happened in the past and there was no way they could have changed it. That was what he told himself, again and again until he believed it.

Katherine was watching him with an impassive, slightly curious expression as she leaned against the wooden table.

"You react strongly. That's unusual."

"Why are you here?" Percy asked harshly. His voice was raspy and rough from lack of water and days of alternating disuse and screaming. He glared up at her, still shaking from the latest apparition. "Not here, in this room. Here, torturing people, working for _her_." He spat the last word like a curse.

She sucked in an angry breath.

_Tyson is slumped on the edge of a rocky cliff, his single eye torn and bloody. A smirking half-blood stands over him with a knife as his little brother begins to sob. The demigod slashes down, and then he walks away, covered in gold monster dust._

Percy made a pained noise somewhere in the back of his throat. It wasn't real, it wasn't real. "Why?" he rasped. "Why do you do it?" Her fist collided with the side of his head, but he barely noticed. He had a headache already anyway.

"You idiot," she snarled. He was shocked to see an almost hysterical light in her eyes. "Why do you _think _I'm here? Oh, you thought your _noble request_ would make everything better. Didn't you? You thought that once everyone had a cabin and people actually thought about the minor gods' kids every once in a while, things would change!" She was shouting now, but he was too stunned to reply.

It was starting all over again, he realized. The children of the minor gods weren't getting enough respect, so they were joining anyone who promised them revenge. He had to tell Annabeth somehow—

"Gaea gave us a home," Katherine continued. Her voice was loud and definitely in full rant mode now. "She gave us power and a family and everything we _never_ got at Camp Half-Blood. Even with the gods claiming their kids, nothing will ever be different unless someone _forces _them to respect minor demigods.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to be completely invisible? To be completely ignored just because your parent isn't one of the _oh-so-great_ Olympians? No," she spat contemptuously. "Of course _you_ don't. I was only at Camp for three weeks—no, you didn't know that? You were too _high_ and _mighty_ to notice a little daughter of Hecate—_three weeks_ and I could tell how much more respect the Olympians' kids got, let alone the _Big Three_."

"I—" He wanted to say something, explain that yes the gods had some growing up to do but things were getting _better_ and couldn't she see that it really wasn't as bad as she thought?

She cut him off, her voice dangerously quiet. "When one of the satyrs found me, I went with him because I thought I would be going somewhere I _belonged_. Where I wouldn't have to worry about monsters or being a freak or my dad always saying that I was 'special.' That's what they said—that Camp was like one big family, kumbaya and oh let's sit around the campfire and all that crap. And I believed it. But I was _obviously_ wrong, wasn't I?"

"It's—it's not—" He found himself unable to finish; his throat was too dry and he knew somewhere deep down that she was right.

She didn't bother with a reply, instead bombarding him with another awful vision—

_Camp Half-Blood is in flames. The fierce orange light dances from building to field to forest with heart wrenching speed, devouring everything in its path. He can only watch in horror as each cabin catches fire and burns to rubble. Cabin Three is the last to go; it collapses in bits and pieces until only small, charred chunks remain._

_Monsters have somehow crossed the borders and the campers seem totally unprepared for the attack. Demigods fall by the dozen as the horde of monsters overwhelms them. _

"_Percy!" He turns to see Annabeth yelling at him. "What are you doing just standing there? Help us!"_

_He tries to explain that he can't, he can't move or talk or fight but no words come out. Annabeth shakes her head in disgust and runs off the join the hopeless battle._

_In the next five minutes, every single demigod is taken down by a monster._

The first thing he noticed when the nightmarish vision ended was Katherine standing over by the table with her arms crossed. Her expression had hardened into a cool mask that showed none of the maniacal fury exhibited just a few moments ago.

Then he noticed that there was something wet on his face. It dripped onto the corner of his mouth, and he could taste salt. Tears. But he didn't remember…

"You're done for today." Katherine's cold voice came from behind him; he tried to look around to see her but found that to be kind of difficult when tied to a chair. "Someone will come to get you." She stalked out of the torture chamber, leaving him with only the silent room for company.

* * *

><p>The guards didn't come for another half hour, although it felt so much longer than it actually was, which gave him plenty of time to think.<p>

Too much time, actually.

He was pretty sure he was going to go crazy soon. Between not eating in days, going without _water_ for so long, torture, being locked up… yeah, he would probably lose it. He closed his eyes and prayed to any god who would listen: _get me out of here._

He wondered if anyone—especially the people who had been around last time—knew that Gaea was rising again. If she was wreaking havoc on the surface, which she undoubtedly was, it couldn't be _that_ difficult to figure out. And the gods, or Chiron maybe, they'd have to realize it eventually.

A thought struck him. Was Gaea the reason the gods had closed Olympus? Had they known she was rising, and withdrawn to let the demigods find out for themselves?

Were they going to help fight her?

_You idiot, of course they will_, Percy reassured himself. There was no way they could abandon their kids like that. He'd made them promise, right? They were probably just… planning, or something.

He sighed, knowing that Annabeth would have come up with the perfect plan—both for fighting Gaea and getting him free—if she only knew. He remembered her disappointed, desperate face from the vision, saw her run away to fight and die… A shudder racked through him. No, none of his friends were dead. They were just trying to trick him, just using one more method of torture.

None of his friends were dead, but they were all in horrible danger.

Would it never end? He felt like the Fates never stopped toying with them. To be honest, Percy was so _tired_ of the constant threats and worry and fighting and fear. None of them would ever have the chance to just be normal. They were too busy fighting and hiding and getting kidnapped and tortured…

He needed to stop this war before it could begin.

He needed a plan.

* * *

><p><strong>Update (912/11): Hello my lovelies. Nice to see you all again. Breaking news - I had an idea. Shocking, right? Unfortunately, this idea (which I fully intend to work into the story) will force me to change the beginning significantly, along with several parts in the chapters I've already posted. So in order to do this, I'm probably going to start from scratch, mark _this_ story complete and rename it something along the lines of "Double Cross original," and then go off on this whole new plot arc. As a result, this won't be updated for a looong time. I'm going to have to rework a large part of the story, and the change will make this an even heavier AU. I'm hoping you'll like the new parts; it's something that I'm pretty sure hasn't been explored yet anywhere. It's going to be super angsty but also hopefully leave room for more of the classic Percy humor that this story is seriously lacking.  
><strong>

**Get pumped!**

**Until next time,**

**~Starlit  
><strong>


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